Off Her Rocker

Tomorrowaka Eighteen Years LaterTroy, Carl and I stand outside of a red-roofed brick dormitory backed by rugged mountains."It won't be the same at home without you." I squeeze Troy tighter, my tears dampening the sleeve of his White Stripes T-shirt. He squeezes me back, but doesn't say anything.Carl clears his throat, and I blink across at him. He stands behind Troy, smiling, but his eyes are misty as he slides on his sunglasses. "We need to get the car back to the rental place if we're going to make our flight."Troy and I step apart.The cord is cut, but we're still connected."I love you." I take his hands in mine."I love you, too, Mom." Pink splotches bloom on his cheeks. His tender, anxious expression tells me that, despite his excitement, he's feeling some of what I feel: pride and love, but sadness, uncertainty and a little fear, too. The moment is bittersweet. This is what the past eighteen years have all been about. Raising him to be independent, brave and capable. But the thought of not seeing him every day, not hearing his voice...Two snickering young men approach, headed for the dorm's white-columned entrance. Their glances cut our direction, and Troy's blush deepens. Dipping his chin, he releases my hands.I wait until the boys pass by, then, with a final quick hug, I back away. "We're proud of you, sweetie."Carl embraces Troy for only a second, then gently punches his shoulder. "We'll call you when we're home."Troy nods, his gaze shifting to the dorm, down to his feet, then back to us. He pops his knuckles. All signs that he's nervous, excited and antsy. How many times have I watched him act the same on the sidelines of a basketball court before the coach sent him into the game?"Remember why you're here," Carl adds, attempting sternness but sounding sentimental, instead. "Your studies come first. Even before basketball. Keep your priorities straight.""I will." Troy's Adam's apple shifts."You have big shoes to fill some day at Logan Advertising." Carl glances down at his size elevens, then winks."I'm counting on you to send me off to retirement in about ten years."Clearing his throat, Troy blinks down at his size tens. "If you need anything -- " my voice falters " -- we're only a phone call away."Carl checks his watch, then takes my hand. "Bye, son."Panic seizes me. There's so much more to say, but not enough time. One weekend here wasn't long enough.Eighteen yearswasn't long enough. I look at Carl and silently pleadone more minute. As if I can cram into sixty seconds everything I forgot to teach our son, to explain and impress upon him during his lifetime."You should have plenty of money in your account," I tell Troy. "And I put extra on your student card." The words rush out of me. "You understand how to use the card in the laundry machines, don't you? And how todothe laundry?""Yes,Mom. You went over it a million times." Embarrassment and exasperation strain his quick laugh."Ask your resident adviser if you have any questions. He's there to help. And get involved in dorm activities. It's a good way to meet people and make friends."Troy sends his father a desperate look. "Dana, come on." Carl tugs my arm. "We'll be late." Ignoring him, I say, "Remember what we talked about. You'll meet all kinds of people here, Troy. Good ones, but kids you'll want to avoid, too. Be careful.""Jeez,Mom." He cringes slightly and eyes a group of girls who walk by carrying boxes."Goodbye, sweetie." I have to squeeze the words from my throat.Turning, I follow Carl down the sidewalk. One step. Two. Three. Four. Deep breaths. In...out...in...out. Bringing Troy into the world was less painful than sending him off on his own to explore it.The cord may be cut, but we're stillconnected. At least I am; when I look over my shoulder, Troy isn't watching us leave, as I'd expected. His head is turned toward the dorm.Archer, Jennifer is the author of 'Off Her Rocker ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373881031 and ISBN 0373881037.